


Hummingbird Heart

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: MCU Maximoff Oneshots [72]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A Series of Moments, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Codependency, Gen, pre-AOU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 18:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6765577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro's heart beats hummingbird-fast but only he and Wanda ever think as to <i>why</i>.</p><p><b>AKA</b> It's the anniversary of what happened to Pietro in AOU so here's some commemorative fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hummingbird Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wandasmaximoffs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandasmaximoffs/gifts).



* * *

**_Hummingbird Heart_ **

* * *

 

 **i.**  
Pietro has many memories of their childhood. He cherishes everyone, none of them perfect, none of them completely safe, but they were almost all of them – all, in comparison to after they were ten – _happy_. Wanda has her own memories, and once the bond springs up between their minds they share them, like precious jewels, treasures kept in the hoards of their minds.

There is one memory, always, which overrides them, creeps out of whatever hidden part of his mind that he hides it in, causes nightmares no matter how hard he tries to avoid them.

He remembers, when they were ten years old, remembers grabbing Wanda, bundling them both under the bed. Remembers the choking dust that meant they dared not speak, remembers holding Wanda in his arms, bracing the splintering bedframe on his shoulder so if the bricks shifted wrong they would crush him and not her, remembers Wanda’s heartbeat under his fingertips, fast and worried, his own in his chest, like a hummingbird’s.

Pietro remembers the panic and cannot ever forget.

 

* * *

 

 **ii.**  
Pietro remembers the foster homes, passing through so many of them. They were fine, mostly, not one thing or another, just… there, places to stay. Pietro remembers school though, and those that judged them for their closeness, remembers seeing the pulse jump at Wanda’s throat with her anger, her muscles coiled as though she wanted to step out and strike.

In his chest, as he watches Wanda facing so many others, looking like a Queen with no intention of surrender, his heart had been going as fast as a hummingbird’s with worry.

 

* * *

 

 **iii.**  
Pietro remembers the foster home that was nothing good, remembers children being ferried off elsewhere only to not arrive, remembers the bruises on some of the others, remembers Wanda curling against him shaking with anger.

“So we leave,” he had whispered. “They are. We should. We leave.”

Come summer they did, snuck out of the home – not _their_ home – snuck out of the city – _their_ city – and made their way down into the valley beneath Novi Grad, the farms and barns, and sought shelter there instead of in the streets they knew.

Pietro’s heart, beating like a hummingbird’s, knew all along that this would do no good.

He remembers the glimpse of red drifting from Wanda’s fingertips like smoke, so faint even she did not notice as it stretched out to knock over the lantern.

He remembers, as clearly as she does, the men who would have hurt her, hurt them, and the feel of her pulse against his face when they had curled close in embrace when they had got away.

He remembers, his face pressed to her neck, the feel of her jugular beating fast against his brow as he had mumbled, “Never again. If they had hurt you-”

Wanda’s voice, soft and steady and yet still scared, “It would have killed both of us.”

 

* * *

 

 **iv.**  
He remembers the protests, remember how it felt to be part of a crowd, to hear Wanda yelling beside him until her voice was hoarse. Remembers how it felt to be a part of something beyond just him and Wanda, remembers how his heart beat in time with the chants, only speeding when the police inevitably came, hurled tear gas and shot rubber bullets, dragged people away to cells.

He remembers the panic, holding tightly to Wanda’s hand lest they be torn apart, heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.

 

* * *

 

 **v.**  
Pietro remembers, with painful clarity, the first time List stepped out to entreat a crowd for volunteers. The crowd around them listened. Wanda did not, muscles tense, eyes wary, and when List left they went in the opposite direction.

“There is the possibility-” Pietro remembers saying, only for Wanda to shake her head.

“We have options still. Whether or not they are S.H.I.E.L.D. rebelling against the whole, or whether they are something else… we have better options.”

Pietro remembers, remembers Wanda’s certainty, his uncertainty, remembers the offer List made to make them _stronger_.

When he woke from nightmares that night his heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.

 

* * *

 

 **vi.**  
The fevers were _fevers_ as the power of the sceptre, the blue crystals, the acid-like Chitauri blood worked through their systems. Wanda’s hand, tight around his, was a promise _we will be well, we will be strong_ but his heart was racing with panic, faster and faster, fast as a hummingbird, and Pietro knew he never worried without reason.

Wanda pulled through first, of course, she the stronger and more certain in so many ways. Pietro focussed on the scarlet lighting her eyes to try to calm his heartbeat, to break his fever.

His fever broke. His heart did not slow.

 

* * *

 

 **vii.**  
Pietro remembers how his heart never slowed, after the experiments. Sometimes, after good days, he does not think it was because of panic but his powers.

Other days, bad days, days when Wanda’s ability to see minds sends her screaming into migraines, he remembers thinking it was panic, was worry, was a need to get out and away from these people claiming to be S.H.I.E.L.D. but against it, not HYDRA but much the same, constants and contradictions, made of a myriad reasons they should leave.

“Stay,” Wanda had whispered, her hand firm in his. “Stay. They will come soon enough, and then we have vengeance.”

It may have been true, Pietro knew this, knew his sister’s certainty.

But his heart was going hummingbird-fast and he has always known that is never good.

 

* * *

 

 **viii.**  
Then, then after the experiments, only Wanda could tell the difference between his calm and his caution, could feel the most minute differences in his hummingbird heart to know when he was truly worried.

She knew it, when the Avengers attack, when Strucker plans surrender and to have them secreted away, to take from them the vengeance that has been taken from them so many times before.

“We _must_ fight,” he remembers saying, remembers Wanda’s hand squeezing his, her nod and silent command to drop her by the entrance before he ran into the woods outside. His heart, going hummingbird-fast, not worry – he thought, he hoped, he _prayed_ – but excitement at a battle at last, at _last_ with their enemies. He could feel Wanda, bright and scarlet in the castle, could track back to her with ease when the time came.

“We’re just going to let him take it?” and he was angry, angry, at the idea that Stark might have the power of the sceptre, to make new tools, to give more people powers like theirs.

Wanda’s hand was gentle in its gesture, but certain. Pietro’s heart was as fast as a hummingbird’s.

 

* * *

 

 **ix.**  
_Mistake, mistake_ and Pietro knew that he should trust his heartbeat, fast as a hummingbird’s, but how could he when it was that fast always? Wanda’s judgement had always been as reliable as his pulse, and since the experiments it has been even more so. Ultron, though, Ultron, steel and silver and red a-glowing like some demon from the pit.

(They weren’t Christian, weren’t _anything_ anymore, but they knew the stories. Ultron is a demon, and Pietro, for all his half-given hope that they might get vengeance, could not find it in himself to trust a demon.)

The ship was one thing, even with his heart hummingbird-fast with worry when Wanda collapsed.

Seoul, Seoul was another, seeing Wanda reeling with whatever she had seen in the new body’s mind, gleaned from Ultron, and his heart was racing, even for a hummingbird’s, as he plucked Wanda up and took her to safety.

 

* * *

 

 **x.**  
His heart did not slow with the Avengers, he knew that. He knew why, really. Stark, but one reason, the new Vision – unproven in his nature – another. Godling Thor, the archer agent, the Captain so readily offering trust without proof, the one who would have _hurt Wanda_.

His heart was a hummingbird’s as they flew to Sokovia – _fly **home**_ Wanda’s mind had thought beside his – and he knew, knew then that _this_ was panic, _this_ was worry, _this_ was his heart racing to cope with battle.

They had to, he knew that. They had no choice, now, with Ultron’s plan. He knew that too. Wanda being strong enough to fight – he _saw_ that, saw her tear robot bodies to shreds with a flick of her fingers.

_Why did his heart not slow?_

 

* * *

 

 **xi.**  
He knows now. He knows now. He can feel the stitch aching in his side, but he has run with worse stitch in training. He can feel Wanda in the church, scarlet a dance around her, her fear tamed to absolute fierce control as it had been in protests, against the police.

Wanda will be well. Wanda will be well.

Pietro runs, his hummingbird heart, the heart of his powers faster and faster and no, maybe this is not panic as it has always been before. Pietro doesn’t know. Pietro doesn’t care.

 _Wanda will be well. Wanda will be well_.

That is his tenet, that is his core. Wanda does not need him now. Wanda will be well.

Pietro sprints.

 

* * *

 

 **xii.**  
He can feel the bullets, lodged in his body, feel the blood pouring out, feel the ache, the pain, feel Wanda screaming as his heart strains and strains and falters.

His hummingbird heart beats no more.  

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this please do leave a comment!


End file.
